The Keeping(115)
Ms. Matthews jumped as if the man was actually in the room barking orders at her. Some instinct told her that every word he had spoken was true. She scurried into Mr. Aldrich’s office and checked the planner on his desk, then relayed the information to Mr. Greyson.
The man’s tone of voice changed, becoming calmer, almost pleasant. “Good. I like the way you follow orders, girl. Now is there anything else written in his book from yesterday or for the next four days?”
“Mr. Greyson, I’m not sure I should tell you—”
“Are you defying me, girl?”
Gripping the phone tighter, Ms. Matthews swallowed hard. That mean, dangerous edge was back in the man’s voice. She looked around nervously, sure he was nearby which of course he wasn’t. It just seemed that way. “No, sir. Of course not. Just let me look... Okay, he has only one message on yesterday’s date. It says ‘Greene called. Returning. Next few days. Report.”
“Ahh... That is good news. Unexpected, but good. All right. Now you may take a message for me. Tell Aldrich that I will want Ms. Greene’s complete report delivered to me in four days time. Got that?”
Ms. Matthews scribbled the message down. “Yes, sir. You want Mr. Aldrich to deliver Ms. Greene’s report.”
“Excellent. Now what else does he have written down?”
She flipped through the next few pages of the planner. It was blank. “There’s nothing there, sir. I believe I heard him mention something about going away for the weekend.”
“While the cat’s away... Thanks you, Ms... Er... What was your name?”
“Matthews, sir. Mary Matthews.”
“Right. Thank you, Ms. Matthews. You’ve been most helpful. I like to keep close tabs on my employees. Tell me, which agency did Aldrich get you from?”
“Richardsons.” She answered hesitantly, not sure where the conversation was going.
“I’ll keep that in mind and recommend you to some of my other employees when they need a temp. I think, Ms. Matthews, you and I might work well together.”
“Together, sir?”
“Uh-huh. I’ll be in touch. Make sure Aldrich gets that message.”
The man hung up without even saying goodbye and Ms. Matthews slowly put the phone down, frowning. She wasn’t sure, but something was telling her that Mr. Greyson might want her to do a bit of snooping for him. It didn’t sound exactly on the up and up, but Greyson probably had lots of wealthy people working for him. Lots of wealthy, young, eligible people... A smile curved her lips as she considered the possibilities.
*****
Aldrich walked into his office and flicked on the lights. It was six-thirty and he was tired. The damned judge hadn’t wanted to call a recess for the weekend; making them stay until all evidence was presented and arguments given. Well, the man could spend his weekend deliberating legal points if it made him happy. All Aldrich wanted was a quiet weekend away at his cottage by the lake.
Walking to his desk, he scanned the messages the temp had taken. Nothing important there, thank goodness, except... He paused over the very bottom slip of paper. Greyson had called and wanted the complete Greene report in four days. What...?
He frowned. Why would Greyson think there was a complete report? As far as the man knew, Greene was still in Stump River attempting to get information out of Taylor. His gaze fell on his day-planner. It showed yesterday’s date and he knew it had been turned to today’s date when he’d left that morning. That could only mean that someone had been in here checking it.
Aldrich tightened his jaw. Either Greyson had stopped in for a visit—which was highly unlikely since the man was leaving today—or he’d phoned and bullied the temp into going through the planner. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. Pacing the room, he wondered what to do. Greene had said she was returning, but there was no mention of a completed report. Hell, he’d be surprised if she had ten words down, but he couldn’t tell Greyson that.
Greyson had hinted that he would hold Aldrich responsible for the success of Greene’s assignment. It might have been a joke, but with that crafty old coot, you never knew. Aldrich stared around his well appointed office noting the leather furniture, and expensive art on the wall. Then he considered his European sports car and the penthouse suite he’d inherited when Greyson’s last lawyer no longer needed it. He shuddered slightly, recalling how the former lawyer suddenly closed his practice and left town, leaving no forwarding address; at least that was the official story Greyson Inc. told anyone who asked. Aldrich had helped construct the tale, ensuring everything was nice and tidy.